


The Same Rain

by RobinPlaysTrumpet15



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 22:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18600808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinPlaysTrumpet15/pseuds/RobinPlaysTrumpet15
Summary: Not everything was different, Steve realized.





	The Same Rain

**Author's Note:**

> It's raining today, and I honest to god love rain. And it's spring and the flowers are blooming and the trees aren't all depressing anymore. Just a cute little thing about Steve and rain.

The rain was the same.

Mid Spring rain in New York maybe never changed. The temperature was nice. Just this side of warm enough to justify wearing shorts and a t-shirt if you wanted. Nice enough to go for a walk. A little damp, a little cloudy, but Central Park was still gorgeous like this. The grass was green again and the leaves on the trees were still small and fresh. And all the flowers were in bloom. Trees covered in pinks and whites and purples. The petals weren’t even falling yet.

Steve had decided to go out. He didn’t want to check the weather. He almost didn’t care. It was pretty and calm right now, and that’s all that mattered.

Then the drizzle came, and it was okay. Steve had been in worse, and he liked a little rain. The drizzle got a little heavier, and then a little heavier, and then a little heavier…

Steve found himself perched on the edge of a bench underneath a shelter.

He could still walk home in this. It was just a calm, peaceful rain. Not a big deal. He wouldn’t even get that wet.

But he didn’t want to. Steve just wanted to sit here and watch the drops fall into the little puddle over there in the grass, or drip in big, fat drops from the edge of the roof above him.

He stood, stepping closer to the edge of the slab of concrete. It was splattered and damp there, but he would stay dry.

Steve lifted his hand and held it beneath one of the streams of rain water. It hit his palm and splashed a little, pooling just slightly there on his skin. The water ran between his fingers and dripped off the back of his hand.

He remembered doing this, before. Back when he was still just a kid from Brooklyn. He would sit just out of reach of the rain and paint with whatever colors he still had left for hours. And Bucky would indulge him and sit there too. He didn’t always seem to love it, but he did say he liked that he knew Steve wasn’t out in the rain getting himself whipped in some back alley.

Steve smiled at the memory.

The rain was the same. This rain was the same. Light and just this side of warm enough to walk in.

Pretty and peaceful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it.


End file.
